Italy the Mediator
by thebrokenlightbulb
Summary: When England finds out about the Philosopher's Stone's placement within Hogwarts, he plans on attending to keep an eye on the situation. He didn't know that the other nations wouldn't let him go alone.
1. Meeting

**A/N: This story will... _stretch _the timelines a little. Call it artistic licence or whatever. **

**Disclaimer is on my profile if you're really that bothered. **

**World summit hall, June**

The world summit's allotted time for chaos ended as Germany began to shout at the assembled nations. Several of them who had been trying to claw each other's throats out outright had to be hauled off of each other and dumped into their seats. Gradually, the cacophony of before became chatter, albeit heated chatter. That silenced as Germany began to speak.

"Now that you've all gotten that out of your systems," he said, blatantly ignoring some of the glares that were being thrown around the room, "the presentations can start. As the United States is not in attendance due to domestic issues, the United Kingdom will speak first."

Some boos erupted near the back as England stood and started shuffling papers, most likely from people who enjoyed America's harebrained schemes.

Several people dozed off as the blond started his presentation, which ended up being fifteen minutes of insulting his non-magical government in the most covert and boring way possible. He then proceeded to insult his magical government in the same manner. Then, about two minutes away from the end of his time, he started heatedly insulting Albus Dumbledore.

"…no idea what the wanker's thinking, wanting to move such a thing out of Gringotts. He knows it's safest there – but no! He has to put the bloody Philosopher's Stone in a castle full of children. Well, I guess even the best of humans go senile. Next y-"

"Wait," interrupted France, "he's putting that thing into a _school_?" Many of the other nations seemed to have similar thoughts, as they were paying closer attention.

England glared at him for interrupting. "Yes, I just said that. It also just so happens to collide with Harry Potter's first year there," he said, "and if I know the guy, he's got plans, the conniving bastard." He said the last with a faintly affectionate tone.

"But the Philosopher's Stone?" France said, rising out of his seat a little. "We barely allowed Flamel to keep it, and that was only because he seemed trustworthy and promised to keep it safe. And no matter a school's reputation, if this got out, it would be gone within the year. The potential hostage opportunities alone-!"

"France, don't you think I've thought of that? The whole thing could go tits-up at any time, so I'm going to go to Hogwarts to keep an eye on the situation. I've heard some funny rumours about the community anyway, so now's a good a time as ever."

France sat down, placated but a little mutinous.

"Any other questions about the Stone situation?" England asked.

Germany raised his hand a little and said "Are you planning on bringing any others with you? It might be beneficial to have some extra eyes on the situation."

England looked slightly sheepish. "I hadn't really thought of that…"

"In that case, I'm coming." France said, much to the shock of the nations.

There was a moment of silence, and then Spain asked "Are you feeling ill, amigo?"

"Flamel is my citizen – a very handsome one as well, at least in his youth – so I have responsibility over what his creations do, since he has apparently decided not to care."

"Wait, wait, wait," said England, "no. You- you are not coming. I'm not putting up with being in the same building as you, and I'm certainly not exposing the next generation of my magical community to your – your ridiculousness!"

"Well I'm sorry for wanting to take responsibility for my citizens, salaud! And why are you even going? The Stone isn't your responsibility – I guess you just want to see your _Harry Potter_, and I've always had doubts about that story, that Riddle fils de pute must have been as incompetent as-"

"Will the two of you shut up?" Germany shouted, his temper finally snapping. "Both of you want to go for a valid reason, but if you can't get along either one of you go, neither of you go, or take a goddamn mediator."

England began "I'll just go on my own, three unknown students is pushing it-"

"I'm not getting left out of th-"

"It's my fucking school, eejit, and I don't have to let you in-"

"Silence!" Germany shouted. "Now, any volunteers to mediate between those two?" he said, addressing the room.

Someone piped up from the back, "For how long is this for?"

"This academic year at least, maybe for a few years after that if the situation requires." said England.

No one said anything, except a faint "fuck that" from someone unknown.

Suddenly, Italy piped up, "I'll go! I'll probably not be any good at that mediating thing, but I've never been to England's magic school!"

"Are you sure, Italy?" said Germany. "I can go if no one else takes it up."

"No, that's fine! Anyway, I've heard that the paintings at Hogwarts are amazing!"

Germany stared at him and shrugged. "Well, it's your funeral, I guess…" he muttered.

"Yay! So, Mr England, when should I go over to your house?"

"Well… Just stay after today's meeting and we'll sort everything out then. That goes for you too, frog."

"Well, of course, Angleterre."

* * *

After the day's meeting, Italy, France and England gathered near the head of the hall's long table.

"So, when shall we meet up?" asked Italy.

"I need to sort out the actual places at the school first, so I'll contact you about meeting up then." replied England.

"What year will we be going into?" said France. "We'd have to use a potion to fit into anything below sixth year, so I'm assuming we're doing that."

"For once in your miserable life, you're right, frog." said England. "I was planning on entering first year, and I've found a potion that I think we can risk for the year. I'll now have to make more, of course, thanks to you."

Italy suddenly shouted "Mediation!" and jumped in between the two and put one hand on each of their chests. It would have been more impressive if he'd been a little taller and wasn't holding a white flag in each hand.

"Italy…" said France in a slightly befuddled voice. "What are you doing?"

"I'm mediating! You looked like you were going to argue, and if I'm between you, it makes it harder for you to strangle each other!" Italy said in a cheerful voice. "It would be like Belgium in the First World War!"

"But Belgium… didn't she end up occupied?"


	2. Potions and Calls

**England's spare bedroom, the day after the day after the summit**

England cursed furiously as he messed up the penultimate clockwise stir, _again. _The previously blue potion turned a violent mauve and started letting off wisps of a pale gas that burnt at throat as he inhaled it. He coughed and covered his nose while waving the gas away with his hand until he finally remembered to lift the pan off the flame with a pair of tongs. As he set it down, the table started to smoke and blacken, adding to the collection of stains and burns it already had on its surface.

It had been his fourth attempt to make more of the de-aging potion since the summit, and it had been the same thing – the _same thing_ that tripped him up every time. He always got distracted by having to change the intensity of the flame. It wouldn't have been a problem if he'd had his old kit, but that had been destroyed along with his wand when a demon he'd summoned got a little…difficult a few weeks back. He'd been making do with a Trangia stove as he couldn't go and buy a new kit until his already late paycheck came through. And there was no way in Hell that he was brewing anywhere near his turbulent kitchen cooker.

_If people could pay me on time, _he thought, _just for once, that would make things so much easier. Every other email I send wouldn't be an invoice, either._

He dropped a lid onto the stove's flame to put it out and picked up the pan again, then dumped it in the bathroom sink next door. He yawned suddenly and thought to check his watch – seven, too late to try again, still light enough to do things.

"I should probably request the places or something…" he groaned aloud. There was a pause, and then he said, "Fuck that, I'm getting a kebab." _I'll just do it tomorrow, _he added mentally. _I refuse to deal with that amount of crap this late in the evening. _

After stomping to and from the shop through the rain that practically hadn't stopped since May, the blond nation kicked off his shoes at the door, and dumped the plastic food bag on the sofa. He was just about ready for a TV and tea night in when his mobile rang from across the room.

He stared at the phone for a while, thinking of just ignoring it. Then the ringtone started irritating him, so he got up, bringing his mug with him, and intending to at least silence it. That idea ended when he saw that it was America calling.

He almost threw his mug across the room. Almost.

Wearily, he accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey England!" America said loudly.

"Hello, America," he said, walking back to the sofa and sitting down. "Do we really have to talk now? I was just in the middle of something."

"Yup! You know I wasn't at the meeting and the boss told me to catch up."

"Can you get caught up some other time or with somebody else? I really am-"

"But Iggy..." America said, dragging out the 'y'. "You've been real distant lately and I haven't talked to you much." A slightly sharp tone entered his voice.

England paused for a second, and said, "Fine! Fine. There've been some funny rumours going around, and Dumbledore's decided to move the Philosopher's Stone to Hogwarts, so I announced that I will be attending the school as a first year in September. France and Italy somehow also got roped into coming."

"The Philosopher's Stone? That's the thing that makes gold right?"

"It's a bit before your time, but yes. It also produces an elixir that prolongs human life."

"Shit," said America, sounding impressed. "I heard about it from France, but I thought he was being all old-man-ish and superstitious."

"Nope, the wanker that created it, Flamel, is actually still alive."

"Huh. You're not on good terms?" he asked.

"Ha. No. There was a bit of a fiasco about it when it was first created, back in the day." England laughed a little. "Imagine, a human with our potential for immortality!"

"I don't think that would go down too well now, don't you think?" America laughed.

The green-eyed nation sobered a little. "No, I don't suppose it would. You know, you're taking this remarkably well. I'm surprised that you haven't asked to come along."

"Well…" America said in a subdued voice. "I really have stuff to do back here. You know how it is."

"Yeah. Yeah, um, anyway, nothing else spectacularly important happened at the meeting, so unless you've got any other questions…"

"Oh! Yeah, why has your accent gone all weird?" he said, sounding more cheerful.

"What? I don't know what you mean."

"It sounds more… unposh."

"That's not a word and you know it." England said flatly.

"It's a compound word!"

"A made-up one, at that."

"Argh, would you just say?"

"Fine. I'm in my house in The North. The general accent's a bit different, which you would know if you ever got your arse out of London when you visit."

"But driving on the wrong side's weird…"

"Then take a bus!"

"Nah, I'll just get you to drive me 'round, Iggy."

"Like Hell I would. And don't call me that!"

"Aw, you know you wouldn't be able to resist my awesome persuasion, Iggy-Iggy." America laughed as England spluttered, outraged. "Anyway, dude, I've got to go do stuff. I'll see you… when?"

"Oh, there's going to be a short meeting in August, but I don't think I'll make it, so… the October meeting. I'll have to see if I can leave the school during the half-term."

"Cool. I'll talk to you soon, yeah?"

"Yes. Bye," said England before hanging up. He stared at the phone for a while. "Git." He muttered softly, leaning back onto the sofa cushions.

He pulled the bag from the takeaway towards him and checked the temperature of the foil-wrapped kebab. He cursed quietly and took it into the kitchen to microwave.


End file.
